Following on from Trucky’s Tahir thread and Sheeter’s experiences on the pass also, thought some of you might be interested in a similar situation in a very different climate.
This incident took place in the Northern Territory of Australia a long time ago. I was in a very long convoy of half a dozen road trains transporting cattle from Kunnanurra in Western Australia to the Katherine meatworks, a distance of 400 miles of which the vast majority was single track dirt road, and accomplished overnight.
The single large spotlight set in the centre of the bull bars, wired into the full beam switch and for all the world like a wartime searchlight, cast a powerful shaft of light hundreds of yards ahead. But this one did not capture tiny bombers in its glare, just the ghostly clouds of settling bulldust and an occasional pair of reflecting wild eyes. Against the encroaching glow from the east which was brightening my windscreen something else came into view. The loom of large vehicles and small pinpoints of red light told me of another group halt so I eased down through the box and brought the Mack to rest behind the last trailer. Leaving the lights on to warn those behind I walked forward slowly past the line of sleeping giants, blinking tired eyes and stretching weary limbs. The reason for the obstruction soon became clear when I reached the lead truck. Graham’s last crate had slewed into a depression at the side of the track and tilted over to about forty five degrees, lifting the nearside rear bogie and spilling half its contents bellowing into the bush. The front bogie was more or less on the ground and the couplings were still good, so it was decided to pull the whole train forward onto firm ground. George’s rigid body truck was detached from its trailers and placed ahead of the stricken vehicle with a chain tow. Then Noel dropped two of his trailers, leaving the semi coupled for traction, and headed out at angle of about eleven o’clock to the track with a chain attached to the chassis of the tilted trailer. At the signal both crawled forward with Graham assisting in similar fashion and within minutes the whole lot was back in business on level ground. About half the cows had escaped from the crate but the ones that were left appeared to be no worse for wear despite some of them being pitched sideways with their legs through the slatted sides. The whole operation had taken a couple of hours and so as it was now full light it was decided to start the breakfast fire. Soon the billy was boiled and the hot black tea was washing down dusty throats followed by beans and sausages. Another hour saw the fire doused and the snaking procession grinding laboriously into motion. In the mirrors, just before the bulldust blotted the view, a few yellow-brown shapes slunk from the bush to investigate the feeding possibilities of the blackened cans by the still smouldering ashes. My first sight of dingoes.
Salut, David.
